


Shit Show at the Fuck Factory

by wewillalwaysenduphere



Category: Alex Rider (TV 2020), Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz
Genre: Banker Yassen, Capitalism, M/M, Sex Worker Alex, Succession Crossover, Succession HBO, corporate takeover, no one is a good person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:27:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27549838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wewillalwaysenduphere/pseuds/wewillalwaysenduphere
Summary: People spill all their secrets to their hookers. Yassen has gotten to know someone who's especially good. If even he is opening up to Alex, surely those talents can be put to good use in other ways?
Relationships: Yassen Gregorovich/Alex Rider
Comments: 17
Kudos: 78





	Shit Show at the Fuck Factory

**Author's Note:**

  * For [galimau](https://archiveofourown.org/users/galimau/gifts).



> Happy Birthday, ahuuda!  
> I'm so happy I got to meet you this year, and that I can call you my friend and talk on the phone about the world and god and everything - and I'm so happy every time we get to plot. <3  
> It's late but here it is! Your gift, made out of all the things I know you like - it has Yalex and Succession and all the swearing! And I hope you'll like this take on it :)
> 
> For all non-ahuuda people interested in this: If you know Succession, go right ahead! If you don't know it, what are you doing with your life? Go watch Succession. But also: The Roy family, who owns the global player "Waystar Royco", is basically just your average asshole billionaire family, with all the kids trying to take over from daddy, but daddy refuses to name a successor. So have fun!

“It’s good to see you, Yassen.”

Yassen wished he could say the same. Julia Rothman was most certainly lying – the only thing she was ever genuinely happy to see was money. But at least she bothered with a lie. Kurst, seated next to her, couldn’t be bothered to even pretend interest in him.

“Gregorovich,” he acknowledged, once Yassen had sat down in front of them. It was a nice meeting room, up high enough to offer a beautiful view of the skyline of New York, and intimidating enough to make other people sweat in their expensive suits. Yassen had never been easily intimidated. He’d worked for Scorpia for years. He knew his worth.

“What do you think about our latest client?”

Rothman’s smile was sharp enough to cut. Yassen was fairly sure she’d actually painted her lips red with blood this morning. Kurst might be a bull and physically looming over him, but he was only a member of the board while Rothman was the chair.

“I’ve read the files about Waystar Royco. They’re profitable and could be more so if the next CEO and COO were chosen by skill and not blood, but that is unlikely to happen. It’s a family business. They won’t sell, so there’s no deal to negotiate, no matter what Mr. Furness wants.”

Rothman shook her head.

“They might not want to sell, but we’ll make them. If we just offer enough money…”

Things were falling into place, then.

“A hostile take-over.”

Kurst gave an enthusiastic grunt in reply.

“But Waystar Royco isn’t _worth_ more than what it trades for.”

Yassen was good enough at his job to know this didn’t make sense considering the current market prices and projected developments, but he also knew enough to be very well aware that what wealthy, powerful people were planning to happen in six months might change all of that. Waystar Royco was probably a small part of a bigger plan he didn’t know of yet.

“Leave those concerns to us,” Julia Rothman said, proving to Yassen that his first assumption had been absolutely right.

“Alright. We want to help Mr. Furness take over Waystar Royco and you want to send me to London to facilitate it.”

Rothman gave a small nod.

“Exactly. It won’t be a pleasant assignment because Logan Roy is an old, bitter man who would have been better off if his stroke had killed him, with a family as friendly as a nest of vipers. But you are our best bet and since you do want to make partner…”

She trailed off, looking at Yassen, expecting him to jump in and reassure her that yes, of course, he’d fly around the world, make nice with these people, steal their fortune out from under their asses and make it seem perfectly legal and proper after.

The part that got him, though, was that he would do exactly as she expected, because he wanted to be partner.

“Of course. When is my flight?”

Julia Rothman leaned back, satisfied and pleased, never having expected that anyone would dare tell her no.

“Tomorrow at eight am.”

Yassen accepted it without complaint. Neither would his complains bear any fruit, nor would they change the future. Julia Rothman planned and expected everyone else to fall in line. Most of the time it was easiest to just fall in line.

* * *

London greeted Yassen with a sunny, cloudless day. He’d always liked the city, and while banking had lead him around the world, he could comfortably place London within his top three. A proper democracy, clean air, and a free press could not be found in all banking capitals of this world. Yassen always felt better knowing that if any of his shadier deals were discovered, he’d get a fair trial at least. At which point Scorpia’s team of lawyers would get him out of whatever he had allegedly done.

Meeting with Roman Roy was a decidedly less sunny prospect. He was an ugly, incompetent man, and that Logan had chosen him as the one for Yassen to meet made it clear the man didn’t take him seriously at all.

Yassen ended up giving him a detailed presentation on Scorpia’s plans, and the dumb idiot lucky enough to have been born into a family of billionaires had looked so supremely bored that Yassen knew he hadn’t even realized someone was trying to take away all of his family’s wealth.

“I’m sure my father will be very interested in your proposal,” he said, touching his already greasy hair to keep it in place.

Yassen rarely felt the need to murder someone, but he was fairly sure even Logan Roy would thank him for this one.

“He won’t be.”

Roman looked the numbers over once more. The complete lack of understanding on his face was almost comical.

“Why not?”

“Let me put it in terms you’ll understand: We’re making you an offer you can’t refuse.”

That gets Roman to straighten up.

“You’re planning on – buying us?”

Yassen gave him an acidic smile.

“Not you. But your company, yes.”

“You can’t – we won’t – fuck off!“

Yassen had heard enough.

“Speak to your father. Give him my card. Let me talk to someone who knows what’s up. Have a good day.”

There was no logical explanation how Roman Roy could be this much of an idiot. He wouldn’t recognize a bear hug until he’d been squeezed to death. Yassen needed a stiff drink and a good night’s sleep, he’d barely gotten any on the plane. Children should be banned from business class, he’s pretty sure.

* * *

“You going to work already?”

Jamie was still lazing on the couch in his old sweatpants, nibbling on celery sticks, while Alex made sure his hairstyle looked both effortless and elegant. Not bedhead, not completely swooped back. Somewhere in the middle between “come fuck me” and “I can hold a conversation about the last opera you attended”.

“Yeah,” he replied simply, eyeing where Jamie’s shirt had ridden up, revealing his almost too slender figure.

“You should eat something real every once in a while.”

Jamie stretched like a cat and ignored him.

“Alright. I’ll be at the Continental. See you later?”

This time, Jamie did deign to give him an answer.

“I have an appointment scheduled for ten. That’s all I’m doing tonight.”

Alex gave a slow nod.

“Rafe?”

Jamie rolled his eyes, it was as much of a yes as Alex was going to get.

“That dude is so shady,” Alex warned.

“Oh, fuck off,” Jamie murmured, before turning back to the screen.

Alex pulled on a pair of tight, expensive dark jeans, a nice button down and a jacket that showed off his broad shoulders and slim waist. Then he threw out the old take out containers from yesterday and grabbed an apple from their tiny kitchen. He slipped out the door without another word.

* * *

Yassen was on his third drink and things had only gotten marginally better. He hadn’t been in the mood for proper dinner, but the sandwich he’d had had been cheap and soggy. It had started to rain and his coat had gotten soaked just from the few hundred meters he’d walked from the small bistro to his hotel.

There was pleasant music from the lounge, a pianist and a young singer. Her voice was beautiful but nothing special. Yassen couldn’t help but think that she’d waste her life singing in hotel lounges, never amounting to more but always dreaming of it.

He emptied the last of his whiskey, enjoying the pleasant burn down his throat, and ordered another one.

“Hard day?”

Yassen’s gaze was distant when he took in the young man next to him. He was about to tell him to get lost, when he realized how his jacket was tailored, how his jeans were just that bit too tight. Not someone here on a business trip.

A professional. Now, Yassen took the time to look him over. Brown eyes, blonde hair. Darker than Yassen’s own. Bronzed skin. Well-trained. A devilish smile. Young.

“You could say that,” he admitted, seeing the bartender approach with his new drink out of the corner of his eye.

“Would you like one too?”

The young man’s smile was equal parts pleased and flattered.

“What are you having?”

The bartender was just putting the drink down, so Yassen nodded to it.

“Try and see if you like it.”

Carefully manicured fingers reached for the glass, and the young man took a sip. Licked his lips after for good measure.

“Delicious.”

Yassen smiled approvingly.

“Another one, please,” he said, without taking his eyes off of Alex.

He liked professionals. They were always so much less of a hassle. Yassen was a firm believer in the fact that what you really paid for was for them to leave.

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Alex.”

“Yassen.”

Alex kept the drink he’d nipped on and gave a slight nod.

“So Yassen, what has you stressed?”

“This world is filled with idiots.”

Alex gave a slow nod.

“I’d agree with that.”

“Some of those idiots have way too much power and influence.”

The disdain was dripping off every syllable Yassen uttered.

Alex raised an eyebrow.

“You don’t seem the ‘We should redistribute wealth’ type.”

Yassen huffed a laugh.

“You’re right about that. I’m not.”

The bartender brought Yassen’s drink, and they clinked glasses.

“You’re good at reading people, aren’t you?”

Alex shrugged a little.

“It’s a valuable skill to have.”

“What do I seem like?”

Alex took another sip, licked his lips with his little pink tongue before looking Yassen over.

“Successful, but ambitious for more. Wealthy, but hungry for more. A bit of a caged tiger. You’re unsatisfied.”

For the second time within minutes, Yassen felt the urge to laugh. Alex was clever. He liked that.

“And you’re going to change that?”

“I could.” There was a hint of tease and a wink, and for some reason, Yassen didn’t doubt that that mouth wasn’t just skilled at conversation.

“So if I were interested in that…?”

Alex finished off his drink and got up, holding his hand out to Yassen.

“Try and see if you like it.”

Yassen emptied his tumbler with one long gulp and took Alex’s hand, guiding him up to his room. Allowed himself the luxury of losing himself in soft sheets and softer skin, breathy moans and demands for more. In those deep, brown eyes and kiss-swollen lips.

By the time he fell asleep, Yassen was relaxed and satisfied.

To his surprise, so was Alex. He took a quick shower, got back into his clothing, and grabbed the tip from the nightstand. Leaving through the bills brought him even more satisfaction. He scribbled the number to his work phone on one of the hotel notepads and simply added _Call me if you’re interested._

Alex left the room with a spring in his step and a familiar, well known ache in his hips.

* * *

Yassen woke up well-rested and in entirely too good of a mood. Sometimes, he forgot how stressful this job was. The amount of missed calls and emails greeting him when he opened his laptop over breakfast reminded him quickly enough.

Rothman wanted an update. Logan Roy wanted to meet him. Kurst just wanted to piss him off.

Yassen sent an email back to Rothman, ignored Kurst and called the number Roy’s assistant had left. They set a meeting up for dinner that same day. Yassen couldn’t help but grin into his black coffee. Finally, things were moving. Logan Roy was a thoroughly unpleasant person, but at least he was competent. Yassen was looking forward to meeting him, concluding this unpleasant business, and returning to New York.

He showered, got dressed, took a taxi and made his way through the ostentatious lobby of the Waystar Royco Headquarters. A little less gold and dark wood, a little more glass and marble would have done a better job in Yassen’s opinion. But Logan Roy was old-fashioned, and it showed. Not for the first time Yassen wondered why Scorpia had any interest in this company, but it wasn’t his place. A headache for someone else. As long as he delivered his part of the plan, the sword would fall on somebody else’s neck, and that’s all he really cared for.

Logan Roy was wearing a comfortable sweater, sitting behind his massive hardwood desk like a much more benevolent patriarch than he really was. Yassen could appreciate the staging. Not that it was impressive to him, but he had seen how even Roy’s own higher ups scurried away if he so much as glanced at them. This company would stand and fall with one man. Yassen couldn’t help but agree with Rothman: had his stroke killed Logan, this would have been much easier.

“Mr. Gregorovich.”

Logan looked him over like an insect. Just like the man himself, Yassen came from nothing. His parents had been refugees, fleeing a regime that may have killed them otherwise. An immigrant to the US with nothing to his name, until he’d put himself through college and business school, started working and making a name for himself.

“Mr. Roy. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The man’s lips twitched into the parody of a smile.

“Please, sit. It’s so rare these days to speak to someone who wasn’t born into this world. Sometimes I think I’ve made it too easy for my children.”

Yassen gave a non-committal shrug.

“Hardship forms character.”

Logan nodded.

“Indeed, it does.”

For a moment, he looked out over the city.

“My useless son told me you’re planning on buying us, Gregorovich. You have to know my answer to that.”

Yassen wondered if Logan’s clear disdain was for incompetence or for his children outright, and if the latter was the case, how he might use it to his advantage.

“Unlike Roman, you know the board has to consider it. The fiduciary standards require the board consider any offer which would benefit their shareholders-“

“I know.”

Logan looked him over.

“How much for you to come work for me instead?”

Yassen raised an eyebrow. Logan made an impatient gesture.

“Don’t give me that look. We’re exactly the same. We came from nothing and clawed our way up. You’re in it for the money and the power. I’m going to offer you more than that Scorpia bitch could.”

For a moment, Yassen sat back, considering the offer.

“What position?”

“Roman is useless. I’d give you his COO position.”

“Kendall isn’t much more useful.”

Yassen wasn’t sure whether Logan would accept that insult of his youngest son, but the man only nodded.

“That’s true. But I’d want you to be COO for at least half a year before I give you the CEO spot.”

It was an offer to be considered, Yassen decided.

“I’ll think on it. For now – I’m assuming you’ll try and go up against this.”

Logan shrugged. “Of course.”

“What kind of poison pill?”

“Why would I tell you, the enemy, that?”

Yassen gave him a sweet smile.

“I haven’t declined your offer yet. I’m interested to see what you’ll do.”

Once more, Logan looked him over.

“Come back tomorrow. We’ll talk more then.”

“Yes, sir. Have a good day.”

Yassen got up, straightening up his jacket.

“You won’t just try and dilute shares. You’ll try and push the acquisition of local TV to make Waystar too big to swallow.”

Logan looked impressed. Yassen almost expected a compliment.

Instead, all the man said was a heartfelt “Fuck off,” and Yassen suddenly knew where Roman had gotten that from. When he left the building, he knew Logan would never sell. He’d fight them to the bone. It was either give up, take his offer, or start digging up the dirt that had to have accumulated over the years somewhere.

Yassen pulled out his phone and made a call. Before he went to bed that evening, he received an email from a throwaway address. All it said was:

_Look into the cruise division._

Instead of going to sleep, Yassen pulled his laptop into bed with him. He found Tom Wambsgams, husband of Shiv Roy, as head of cruises. Shiv had maneuvered her husband into power after the old head had retired.

That company was remarkably incestuous. Tom had an assistant, too – Greg Hirsch. A distant cousin. Yassen stayed awake until four am, trying to find anything on them. They were squeaky clean. The first hints of the sun were showing in the sky, and he decided to skip sleep altogether. Instead, he took a longer shower, popped a pill, and made his way back to Waystar Royco.

* * *

Logan waved him in, his youngest son Kendall by his side this time. Kendall reminded Yassen of a ferret. He seemed stressed, insecure and far away from his natural habitat. Not everyone could sustain a coke habit without letting it slip into addiction, and Kendall Roy had most definitely failed. The bad side of being born a billionaire was that all your dirty laundry got aired for the whole world to see.

Mostly, Yassen pitied the kid.

The fact that Kendall was only five years younger than him and Yassen still saw him as more of a kid than a businessman said plenty in and of itself.

“Mr. Gregorovich, this is my son Kendall.”

The introduction was mostly for Kendall’s benefit, and it did make him puff out his chest a bit.

Almost cute, in Yassen’s opinion.

“Have you thought about my offer?”

Right in front of Kendall. So his son had no idea Logan was bargaining away his position so easily.

“I have.”

Yassen didn’t say anything else, and Logan didn’t press the issue. Interesting. Maybe not willing to embarrass his son this publicly after all.

“Good. Let’s go over the numbers Scorpia is proposing once more. Your first presentation was lost on Romulus. My general council will be listening, too.”

An older woman joined, introducing herself as Gerri. She was only the second person Yassen had met in this company who made it somewhere on merit alone. He decided to keep an eye on her. Yassen ended up presenting, and they discussed it endlessly. After a few hours, Logan told him to come by the next day.

Yassen had a feeling this would go nowhere, and when the next day was only a repeat of the previous one, he was frustrated enough to find himself at the bar again, drinking. He picked up his phone and dialed the number Alex had left him.

The young man picked up with a leisurely, “How may I help?” and Yassen would have laughed at the choice of words if Alex's voice hadn’t sounded so soft and promising.

“It’s Yassen, from a few days ago. I’m at the same bar. Are you working tonight?”

“Yeah, but I haven’t had dinner yet. Give me an hour?”

“If you tell me where to pick you up I’ll send a cab and we can get dinner here.”

There was a slight pause, and then a considering hum.

“Alright, sounds good. I’ll text you an address.”

“Good. See you soon.”

Yassen knew Alex would make sure to be a good ways away from his apartment before sending him an address. He was looking forward to the company – both for dinner and later on. Alex was clever, and clearly had good taste. Yassen couldn’t remember when he’d had his last proper meal, between reporting back to New York, playing nice with Logan Roy and keeping up to date with the accounts and funds he was handling on the daily.

Alex insisted on dessert and a cocktail after, and Yassen obliged easily enough. The money didn’t worry him and he liked watching Alex enjoy the exquisitely arranged dish.

The night was just as pleasant as the first one, and with how frustrating the negotiations were, Yassen ended up calling on Alex regularly. He got to know the young man a little – mostly in an intimate sense, but also which restaurants he preferred for their dinners, and that he liked compliments in and out of bed.

Alex was young, and Yassen could have speculated about his relationship to his parents, but he cared little. Alex was a professional, and never overstayed his welcome.

However, he did offer an open ear, and while Yassen would never share specific information, it was good to have someone to bitch to.

“I mean, in the end, they’re just scared," Alex mused.

“Scared? It’s just business. They’ll still be rich.”

Alex moved his head in a considering gesture.

“See, Logan Roy came from nothing. This isn’t about the money for him. It’s about what it means – the influence, the power, the fact he can call the Prime Minister up and demand exceptions be made for his local TV acquisition even if it comes dangerously close to a monopoly.”

Yassen raised an eyebrow.

“You know about that?”

“It was in the news. I watch TV.”

Fair enough. It made sense Alex would know the general shapes of it, and not the numbers that were running in Yassen’s head at any point of the day.

“They’ve got skeletons in the closet, and if I could just find one of those…”

“You’re intelligent. I’m sure you can,” Alex replied, and kissed Yassen for good measure.

But Yassen was the Roy family’s enemy number one right now, and no one would speak to him. Getting into Greg’s or Tom’s good graces to find out about the cruise division tip he’d gotten would be impossible.

The answer came to him during another night with Alex, when they were watching coverage of a Gala showing the Roy family, while wrapped in blankets after sex.

“Roman is lucky to be born with money, otherwise he’d be sleeping on the street,” Yassen commented carelessly. He knew Alex wouldn’t talk. Besides, everyone knew Roman was nothing without his father.

“I heard he can’t get it up,” Alex added, and Yassen looked at him with interest, expecting specifics. Alex only shrugged.

“I’ve heard people talk.”

“Colleagues?”

Alex gave a little smile and nipped on his champagne, saying nothing. It’s all the answer Yassen needed.

When Logan got up to the stage to speak, it was very slowly – this video had been taken shortly after his stroke.

“I bet he can get it up, but his heart might kill him if he does.”

Yassen chuckled at that.

“Please, do continue with your assessments.”

Alex, slightly tipsy and in a good mood, merely nodded.

“Look at Kendall. How he holds himself. He hasn’t gotten any in months.”

“He does seem pretty stuck-up,” Yassen agreed.

“And then, of course, Connor’s girlfriend. She’s a professional.”

Yassen did a double-take.

“Really? She fits them all so well. She has a play on broadway.”

“That Connor financed. And besides, we all fit into wherever we chose to fit into. It takes one to know one.”

Yassen allowed himself to sink back into the bed, thinking.

“People talk after sex.”

“People spill everything to their hookers,” Alex agreed, putting it a little more plainly.

For a moment, Yassen wanted to object. Then he realized how hypocritical it would be. But…this opened up an opportunity.

“Regard this as a business proposal, and feel free to tell me off but – if I wanted you to ask someone a few questions…maybe after sex. Would you do that for the right fee?”

Alex turned to him, looking him over.

“In regard to those skeletons, I assume?”

“Yes.”

Alex’s eyes flickered back to the screen.

“Which one?”

“None of those – Tom Wambsgans or Greg Hirsch.”

They had to search a bit for footage of them.

“I know, Tom being married to a woman might complicate things-“

Alex looked at him as if he was seeing him for the first time.

“Yassen, honey. Most men I fuck for money are married to women.”

“Well, in that case…”

“Greg seems like the easier target, though.”

Alex’s eyes were sharp, watching Greg. Young and less polished than the rest.

“He’s still finding his place in the world. He’ll love the attention.”

Yassen shrugged.

“I’m leaving that decision to you.”

Alex took a few sips from his champagne, watching the Roy family on screen.

“This is my offer: You pay me in advance, twice my fee, and get me in a location where I can meet them. If I get information, I’ll sell them to you after, at a rate that corresponds with what you stand to gain from it.”

After weeks of not getting anywhere with professional corporate negotiatiors, Yassen was surprised at this quick agreement and clever offer. Depending on what Alex found out, it might get expensive for him. But he didn’t mind that. Alex was right: he stood to gain a lot. Besides, there was no other way forward, and no one else he could trust with this. He barely trusted Alex.

“Alright. Let’s do it.”

* * *

Alex was breathing fast when he got out of the car, practically running the stairs up to the flat he shared with Jamie.

Greg Hirsch had been an easy target. Too easy, really.

_“Have you ever been with a man before?”_

_“No – no, I, I can’t say that I have-“_

_“Because you don’t want to or because you never had the chance?”_

_Greg had looked at him hesitantly, eyes wandering down to his lips. Alex had smiled, sweet and a bit shy, already knowing that he’d won._

Alex opened the door with shaking hands, hoping his flatmate was home.

“Jamie? Jamie! I need to talk. You’ll never guess what happened –“

Jamie came out of his room, yawning.

“It’s two am, Alex. I was trying to sleep.”

Alex shook his head, gelled strands flying wildly.

“Sit down. Now. Remember I’ve been fucking this banker involved with the Waystar Royco takeover, and he gave me money to fuck someone else for information-“

“He pimped you out and you let him?”

Alex shrugged it off, reaching for Jamie and pulling him into the kitchen, turning on the light and shoving Jamie into a chair. Their table was small, but the best place to talk. Alex put on some water, and reached for the instant coffee. They would need it.

“Yeah, whatever, so I fuck this dude and I rifle through his stuff and you know what? He has copies of various documents proving that the cruise division made a bunch of rape and assault allegations disappear, they paid off their customers to keep quiet and would ditch the offending personell in ports in South America where they wouldn’t be persecuted and this has been going on for decades! This – if this gets out, the company is done for. The takeover will be easy. This intel is worth – I don’t know how much, but a shit ton of money and I’ll have to make sure I get paid for it!”

Jamie yawned again, blinked his eyes. He was more alert now, though.

“So essentially: You have information that could topple this family of billionaires and you rely on the goodwill of one shady banker guy who also pimped you out to get paid for it?”

Put like that, Alex’s position sounded a lot weaker than he thought it was.

“He’s not that shady,” Alex said, trying to put up token resistance.

“He’s pretty shady.” Fair enough. Alex shrugged, which was as much of an acknowledgement as Jamie was going to get.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t matter – I just want the fucking money and not to be associated with this mess.”

Jamie tapped his chin, then he got up again and rummaged through their cupboards before coming back with some Swiss chocolate. Alex stared.

“Why?”

“Because you’re in a dangerous situation. You wanna be the next hooker floating in the Thames because you meddled in things you shouldn’t have? If you’re gonna sell this intel, we need to be clever about that. And for my brain to work at two in the fucking morning, I need sugar.”

Alex swallowed, reality setting in because – yes. He was caught between a multibillion dollar corporation and one of the largest banks in the world, and he had no idea what he was dealing with. But that had never stopped him before and certainly wouldn’t now.

He reached for the package of chocolate and opened it, breaking off a big piece for himself before handing the rest back to Jamie. Then he prepared coffee for them both, the water had boiled already.

“When are you meeting your shady banker guy?”

Alex opened his mouth to argue about the shady thing again, before clicking it shut and deciding it wasn’t worth it.

“This evening.”

“Well, then we’ve got work to do.”

* * *

That evening, Alex met up with Yassen in one of their usual restaurants. It was nice, and normally Alex would look forward to the multicourse meal, but this time his stomach was tied in knots and he was sure he wouldn’t be able to keep anything down.

Jamie and him had looked at what Waystar was worth, what people like Yassen earned, and then decided to add a bit more because Alex knew Yassen was a good negotiator.

Once he’d sat down, the waiter had let Yassen taste the wine and then filled both their glasses, Alex leaned forward as if they were conspiring. They were, after all.

“I’ve got something that’ll bring the whole company toppling down, but I want to be paid in advance for it.”

Yassen merely raised an eyebrow.

“Good to see you too, Alex.” He didn’t linger on politeness though and moved onto business quickly.

“As we agreed, I’m ready to pay for what the information is worth – so you’ll have to let me know what it is if you’re not going to give me full access now.”

Alex took a sip from his wine. It was excellent, as usual. Yassen had great taste when it came to the finer things in life.

“We’ve been meeting for a couple months now, Yassen. You should know it’s my policy to always take payment upfront.”

Yassen chuckled.

“I know. But this is different, Alex. As I’m sure you’re aware this information is precious. Not that your company isn’t, but we’re talking a large sum of money. I have to know it’s worth it.”

Alex looked around before leaning forward, and Yassen did the same.

“I have written evidence of multiple criminal offences – harassment, sexual assault – of Waystar personnel against cruise guests. Waystar made them go away by paying off the port authorities in South America. We’re talking dozens of cases. Rape. And it’s been going on for decades.”

Leaning back, Alex knew Yassen was hooked. There was this shard of ice in his blue eyes that meant he’d tasted blood. Alex would almost feel sorry for the Roy family if they weren’t a bunch of billionaire assholes.

“I want a million for the copies.”

“Five hundred thousand,” was Yassen’s immediate reply.

“That’s half of what I want,” Alex huffed. Yassen chuckled.

“I’m a banker, I know my math. The offer stands.”

Alex knew this was Yassen’s specialty. Scorpia had send him over here as their negotiator. Alex himself barely negotiated – he had his prize and he didn’t lower that for anyone. But this was more money than he ever thought he’d make in a decade, so he put on his best poker face and kept going.

“Nine hundred thousand.”

“Six hundred.” Yassen’s face was completely calm. Alex tried to unclench his hands.

“Eight hundred.”

“Six fifty.”

“Seven fifty.”

Alex tried biting his lip, but Yassen’s eyes stayed firmly fixed on his. It was a tense minute before Yassen nodded.

“Seven fifty and an ironclad NDA. You’ll never speak about this to anyone.”

“I’m not stupid, Yassen.”

Yassen’s facial expression relaxed and he gave a small smile. Alex returned it and held out his hand, which Yassen gave a firm shake.

While shaking, Alex whispered, “I would have sold it for half a million.”

Yassen’s smile became a full-blown grin.

“And I would have paid you a million.”

Alex huffed a laugh and went back to his dinner.

“Do you have it here with you?”

“No, of course not. It’s in a secure location. You’ll get it once I’ve got the money.”

Alex sure as shit wasn’t gonna drag Jamie into this. If he told Yassen about Jamie, he would insist on another NDA and Alex didn’t want that.

“Alex, you realize I need to see proof before I arrange for that kind of money to be…delivered to you in a safely opaque way.”

Alex had no idea how that would be handled, but he didn’t concern himself with it. That was Yassen’s job.

“No intel until I have the money. You’re rich and powerful, Yassen. You get a slap on the fingers if this comes out, if that. I might end up dead.”

Yassen’s facial expression became very, very serious.

“Alex, I would never hurt you over this.”

“You might not. But Scorpia? Waystar Royco? The Roy family are psychopaths. They’d go over bodies.”

Yassen made no attempt to deny that.

“Alright. Then maybe a picture of something? Just so I know.”

Alex showed him a picture on his phone, without handing it over. Yassen nodded.

“Someone will be in touch with you. She’s an excellent lawyer. You’ll bring the copies to her, and she’ll give you the money. She'll introduce herself as Gabriella. My hands are nowhere near this, alright? If anyone asks, I paid you for companionship only.”

Rolling his eyes, Alex nodded.

“As I said, I’m not stupid, Yassen. Where’s the money coming from?”

“You don’t need to know.”

Alex cocked his head, ready to get into this, before remembering he was still on the clock. Yassen paid him for this. So he put on his best smile, took another sip of wine and agreed.

“Alright. Just let me know where and when.”

* * *

A few days later, Alex received a text. An address, a time, signed _Gabriella_.

Yassen’s lawyer, as promised. He looked up the location and dressed formally. It was a restaurant that shouldn’t be open yet, and it was expensive. But when Alex approached, someone opened the door for him immediately. They must have been waiting for him.

“We’ve already prepared a table.”

The maître d’ greeted Alex and led him through the restaurant into one of those private dining rooms. The whole restaurant was empty, but Alex knew what they were doing was dangerous. Better to be safe than sorry.

When he walked in, it was to a woman already sitting there, a glass of wine in her hands, the dark crimson of her manicured nails matching up perfectly with her lips, long, glossy dark hair falling in waves over her shoulders, and piercing blue eyes that reminded him of Yassen. Not the same color, but the same expression. That ruthlessness, that cold. He was sure they got along just fine.

When she smiled, she revealed perfect, pearly white teeth.

“Hello, Alex. Take a seat. It’s good to meet you.”

He obeyed, and once seated, replied.

“Hello, Gabriella. I’ve got copies of the documents right here…”

She held out her hand, and he handed them over. For a good while, she was just looking them over, while Alex continued to look at her. She didn’t look like a lawyer. Too attractive. Too…something. But she seemed to be satisfied with what she saw, and gave him a little nod.

“Alright,” was all she said, before reaching for a briefcase she must have had beside her, putting it on the table. Alex wondered, for some reason he couldn’t even fathom himself, if it would be filled with half a million in cash.

Of course, it wasn’t. Gabriella opened it and pulled out a file, which she carefully slid over to Alex.

“When you turned four, your father opened a Swiss bank account for you. He used it to deposit some of his earnings to make sure you had enough funds in case things went belly up for him and the MI6 would keep the money he and your mother had deposited here in England – as they ended up doing.”

Alex took the file and looked through it. There was his father’s signature. There were ten years of deposits and various investments into different funds that only stopped once his father died. He swallowed, trying to ignore how his stomach clenched. How had they found out about his father? About MI6? In any case, the explanation made sense.

“How did you fake this?”

Gabriella raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow.

“You don’t want to know. Plausible deniability, Alex. This is your money now, and it is your responsibility to make sure no one ever finds out how you earned it.”

Alex gave her a wide grin.

“Neither of us wants this to get out. If someone found out Yassen facilitated the deal by-“

“Yassen’s hands are nowhere near this.” Her voice was sharp, and Alex was surprised to see the protectiveness in her eyes.

“Well, if I were to mention him…” Alex trailed off, the implication of his words clear. He didn't even know why he said it - maybe he just wanted to test the waters. In any case, he regretted the words immediately.

The only response he got was a sharp smile and a condescending gaze. Despite Gabriella’s careful make-up and conservative dress it was obvious how at home she was in this world of intrigue and backstabbing. Alex did his best not to recoil.

“Don’t underestimate me, Alex. Don’t underestimate the people who can fake a decade of bank data. You’re playing with forces way beyond your control, and you can’t lead all of them around by their dick. And besides, here’s your NDA. Sign this, and you won’t want to talk about this to anyone for your own good anyway. I think we both know that.”

He looked the piece of paper over, but didn’t bother reading it. They both knew the truth: he wouldn’t talk. After he signed it, he handed it back.

“Stay for a while, we shouldn’t be seen together. Your lunch is on me.”

Gabriella got up, her smile sweeter now, cloying, almost suffocating.

“Have a good day, Alex.”

“You too,” he replied, deflated.

Her heels clicked on the floor as she left, not bothering to turn around and acknowledge his reply.

* * *

Weeks passed, and nothing happened. Alex knew it made sense to wait – they didn’t want Greg to remember Alex, connect the dots – but then it hit. Alex was woken up by Jamie throwing the door closed, screaming his name.

Alex yawned, making his way out of his bedroom and into the messy living room of their small apartment. They really needed to clean.

“What is it? That Rafe guy finally left?”

Jamie stuck out his tongue.

“Fuck off. Also – read this.”

He threw the paper, and it was right there, at the front page, in the biggest tabloid of the nation-

**_Shit Show at the Fuck Factory_ **

_The global player Waystar Royco has been sailing through troubled waters recently, trying to fend off a hostile takeover while family patriarch Logan Roy still recovers from his stroke. But now an even bigger storm seems to be coming for their cruise company. Documents that have been distributed to multiple journalists across different papers showing that for decades, Waystar Royco has been throwing all decency, morality and legality overboard..._

Alex stared.

“It’s happening,” he whispered.

And Jamie nodded, face bright.

“Yeah. It’s fucking happening.”

The news broke in multiple countries that day, and they stayed in, checking more serious news outlets. The Guardian had the first comprehensive story – detailing cases, naming names. Alex felt like someone might knock on the door any day now, knowing he was behing all this, but nothing happened.

A lot happened over the next few days – most notably, that Logan Roy agreed to the offer made by Scorpia, which was unreasonably good with the now completely ruined reputation of his company. There was an article about Yassen Gregorovich having facilitated the deal, and speculations he might get promoted for it, rumors Yassen was going to be named as the newest partner and board member of Scorpia.

Alex stared at that article for a while, before he stopped reading and watching the news. Too many familiar faces.

* * *

When Yassen entered Logan Roy’s office after the story broke, the man stared at him as if he wanted to tear him limb from limb.

“You did that. It must have been you. You dirty little fucker, you cock-sucking son of a bitch, you little cunt, you-“

“Well now, Mr. Roy. Wouldn’t you like to go over the proposal once more? Save, if not your face, at least your wealth?” Yassen's voice was calm and perfectly reasonable.

Logan Roy rolled his eyes.

“Oh, fuck-“

“Off, I know. I won’t. You’ll sign, I’ll get my promotion, and…well. Not everyone is happy, but I am.”

Yassen’s smile made Logan Roy’s knuckles go white around his pen, and Yassen walked over to the huge glass windows of his office, looking out over London.

What a beautiful city, but he had missed New York. And it would be so nice to finally get that promotion.

“You’ve got a lot of potential, Mr. Gregorovich. I hope you won’t waste it all on that bank.”

Yassen kept looking out over the city, surprised by that bit of grace Logan Roy had obviously found inside his blackened little heart.

“Scorpia is just the beginning,” he murmured, not sure if Roy heard him. In any case, the man didn’t reply.

Thirty-seven minutes later Yassen left with the signed documents, and called Julia Rothman from his car. Neither of them bothered with a greeting.

“It’s done.”

“I knew you could do it. Could have been quicker, but we’re satisfied. About that nasty cruise business, I’m sure the press simply discovered that at a convenient time?”

Sometimes, Yassen wished the woman didn’t have that kind of instinct. Then again, she wouldn’t be where she was if she hadn’t.

“What else would it be?”

“I couldn't possibly imagine. I guess good things do happen to good people. Come back to New York so we can officially make you partner, alright?”

In the back of his car, Yassen allowed himself a triumphant smile. Bit his lip to keep himself from saying anything too grateful.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Rothman ended the call, and Yassen licked his lips in satisfaction. He needed to celebrate. He needed to- well.

He called Alex, and asked if he had time now. Yassen didn’t want to wait for tonight.

Alex was perfect. Sharp and clever and with that divine mouth, that tight young body and it would be a shame to leave him here. A shame.

“Congratulations,” Alex said when he walked into the hotel room, before Yassen slammed him against the wall and kissed him speechless. That first round, they didn’t make it to the bed.

During the second one, they did. With Alex’s head resting on his chest and Yassen playing with his hair, he couldn’t help himself-

“You should come to New York with me.”

“Why?” Alex looked at him, genuinely curious.

“Because I want you to. Because I’ll make it worth your while. Because why the fuck not?”

Alex grinned at him.

“You’re really over the moon, aren’t you? That promotion rumor is true, then?”

Yassen knew he shouldn’t be surprised that Alex knew.

“See? You’re way too clever to waste away here. This is a one time offer. A nice penthouse, a generous arrangement, and-“

“I want you to buy another ticket for a friend of mine. I’ll come for a couple weeks, as if I'm on holidays. See how I like it. How’s that sound?”

Yassen’s answering kiss was deep and slow and he whispered against Alex's lips, “Sounds great. Let’s do it.”

For some reason, Alex knew he wouldn’t be returning to London.


End file.
